


Daddy Issues

by TheRomanDweller



Category: Grimescest - Fandom, The Walking Dead & Related Fandoms, The Walking Dead (Comics), The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Daddy Issues, Daddy Kink, Death in the Family, Drug Addiction, Hurt/Comfort, I'm Going To Hell & It's Going To Be Great, Modern AU, Multi, Parent/Child Incest, Professor Kink, Professor!Rick, Sad Carl Grimes, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Student!Carl, UST, University AU, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-07
Updated: 2017-05-12
Packaged: 2018-10-29 02:25:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10844553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheRomanDweller/pseuds/TheRomanDweller
Summary: How about a college au?Carl leaves England at 17 and moves in with Rick in San Francisco. Since Lori hardly talked about Rick to Carl, the young teen has no idea what the man was really like.Carl Grimes’ parents were separated when he was 10 years old. Carl lived with his mum in England until he had to move away for college. He got accepted into UC Berkeley; but he needed to have his residency in California in order for him to receive his Berkeley scholarship. So Carl decides to live with his estranged father.Rick Grimes was originally from Somerset, England but moved to Los Angeles to pursue his writing career. He also moved from LA to San Francisco where he found a teaching position. He became a bestseller in the meantime while he started working for the UC as the head of the classic literature department in UC BerkeleyRick lived alone for 7 quiet and long years until he gets a call from his ex wife saying that their son is now going to stay with him. Will his undisturbed days remain?





	1. Death and Dignity Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> Edited To Conform To AO3 ToS

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carl is away abroad in University when he finds out his mother has suddenly passed away from an inexplicable full-body hemorrhage.  
> After Lori’s death, Since Carl has no other relative, he has nowhere else to go but stay with Rick.  
> What Carl thought was a temporary living arrangement, of living with his father, was now becoming permanent.  
> Oh, and Rick didn’t tell Carl he worked at UCB until they encounter each other on the first day of school.

 

Chapter 1 Dignity and Death Part 1

 _Location: At The UC Berkeley Campus_  
  
Carl enters the university classroom. It wasn't so much a classroom, but a large stage and auditorium. At the very front of the classroom was, a large overhanging classic white board situated at the center of a large wall. After the stage individual folding desks follow, all nicely ordered in straight columns and row.. The focus of the class was a seemingly young professor with amber-brown hair and a sharp, well tailored dark grey Burberry suit matched with a Lacoste blue gray scarf.  It wasn't until Carl picked a seat next to Beth that he realized who his English literature professor was. After getting situated in his seat, he looked up, and felt ready to learn. But his eyes seemingly grew larger from the sudden shock and disbelief. It was Rick, his ever enigmatic father, ever missing in his life, reciting from memory one of J.R.R. Tolkien's poems. Carl’s English Literature professor was none other than Rick.

 

_Rick didn’t tell Carl he worked at UCB until they encounter each other at that moment, on the first day of school._

 

“The title of this poem is ‘I Sit and Think’,” said Rick didactically, the ever austere professor, as he looked down and gazed at the marble floor.  
  
The professor…”professor Grimes” as most of his students called him, did not say much after the reciting. The literary topic for the day was human loneliness, pervasive human isolation, the proverbial loss from the death of a loved one, and the understanding of a grief beyond measure. Rick explained the poem, then the lecture topics to be had and discussed:  
  
"In literature, in a few passages, in a cluster of words of reverie, Tolkien is able to explain the insurmountable pain of silence. The innumerable deaths he had encountered. The heart tug of waiting, and the giving up of power to time, relaxation, and mortal reflection. This is not about "the-thrill-of-the-rush" of life or the mere waiting for a visitor. No..., far from it. This is about falling out of happiness, and the absence of human connection. The finding of one's self. And the longing of the ones long gone and the experiences that have passed and have made our choices seem null and our lives gray and stagnant. If you've lost someone or if you've experienced such personal loss as he had, you would understand. Tolkien during the Great War lost all of his friends save but one... He had felt the unbearable lightness loneliness and death brings...," it isn't so much as a tangent but more of a directional start towards the topic of modern literature and its themes. Rick was a game changer when it came to literary discussions.  
  
The knowledgeable professor continued his lecture.

 

"Perhaps Tolkien turned all the faceless, nameless, and forgotten soldiers who had fallen, into the kings we know in literature today, in order for us to remember them in some way. To give their short lives meaning. To give his fallen comrades identity. He saved their collapsing, war-torn worlds in a few pieces of tattered parchment as best he could." the professor didactically lectured on. "What Professor Tolkien did more than save or document their worlds; he wrote all of them, the fallen, in battered notebooks, and wrote fairy stories about his and his friends' lives as a form of escape from reality while his whole world began to embrace mortality in the trenches of war."  
  
Then Professor Grimes continued, "What professor Tolkien also did was make sense of the brutality and the fall of man. Many classic literature scholars would argue that Professor Tolkien's writing are a bit escapist. But don't be fooled, this literature after the World War is not about disillusionment or disenchantment, and far from the themes we usually encounter from the writings of the lost generation. It's an ode to warfare and the comrades and brothers he had lost in the war. And the accounts of his disenchantment from majesty, honor, and bravery. These young soldiers who had volunteered their lives for a cheap travel abroad ended up losing their lives in the trenches. These young men had no families and they may never be remembered as war heroes when they were buried in the mud, and the muck of the trenches, shot dead and their lives cut short in such a gruesome and great war. I reckon professor Tolkien had made these nameless, faceless, young soldiers into the Dwarven Kings, and Elven Princes we know today, as a way for time to remember them.  
  
I have another poem to read for class today, submitted by one of our bright young literary students in Berkeley, Beth, a transfer student from the University of Georgia, and she was gracious enough to allow me the courtesy of reading her poem to you, to read it in front of an audience...I want you to reflect on the effects of war on art and modern literature. Then after this, class will be dismissed. Oh and Carl, Yes you (Rick discretely points), see me after class..." Rick says in the auditorium in the middle of lecture, and normally the students noticed that small gesture and they looked up and scanned the room to see who "Carl" was and many eyes were starting to set on him. Carl was a bit shocked, taken aback and a bit perplexed, but nonetheless he tried his best to look unfazed and waited for his professor to finish with the poem recital.  
 _  
  
And the dreams that you dreamt_  
_bear beautiful fruit_  
in the hearts of others...  
  
  
After the professor recited the lines of these poems he continued on, "I would like for you guys to write a term paper on this poem. It's style, language choice, content, I would like you to explore the themes found in this poem, such as the great despair found in personal loss and the exploration of self-sacrifice. As for the metaphysical analysis of the poem... we'd continue on Tuesday." Rick says as he began to wipe down the dry erase white board with the board eraser.  
  
The college students started to pack their bags and scuttled through the ends of the walkways towards the designated exits. After the last student left the classroom, rather, the auditorium, Carl came nearer and nearer, edging towards the unsuspecting professor's main desk in the very front of the auditorium.

 

Carl took closest walkway at the end of the aisle. He hastened his steps and took a B line straight to his now apparently new professor. The young teen knew that his father didn’t speak much about his personal life or career. He remained an enigma until then.

 

A slight feeling of anger bubbled up in Carl. Rick was packing up his lecture notes, roster, and lesson plan in his Polo Ralph Lauren dark brown briefcase. The professor didn’t even bother to look up. Carl’s father was slick and smooth and carried himself with dignity. His seeming air of apathy and indifference, and his stone cold stance seemed to be his signature look. He also moved with a rugged grace and finesse akin to good old fashioned southern guys. But alas, indeed he is like a young King, with good looks that could swoon anyone. It also didn’t hurt that he won the International Award for Literary Artistry back in 2011. Almost everyone revered him in the Campus. Well...almost everyone.

 

The sight of his son, Carl, approaching did not deter Rick from doing whatever he was doing. The professor did frown and seemed to be uncomprehending of the situation. He very much disliked how his son was closing in on the edge of his personal space, which is fairly large. But rather he straightened himself out to make himself look presentable.

 

Though the professor didn’t need to straighten up his collar, or fix his clothes since he was gorgeous no matter what. Still he combed through his hair with his finger. But this action was completely unnecessary, because indeed, Rick was a marble statue of immaculate beauty as if taken from the Roman Chapel of Palermo or the Palazzo de Capponi in Florence Italy. Rick couldn’t be ugly even if he was dishevelled, or even if he tried.

With baited breath, Carl meekly greeted his father with the same action common to teenagers greeting adults. The greeting was hesitant, awkward, and he somewhat sounded like he was trying too hard to be genial. Carl could smell the Black Polo perfume of Rick. Supposedly that musk hot men exude from their bodies, it almost made Carl’s knees weak and unable to support its bearer. The appearance of the young cold professor was tragically beautiful, the type that brought into question one's own beauty and general physical appearance. The young teen couldn’t help but compare Rick to himself, and the professor noticed that the young adult was standing too close for comfort. The student didn’t realize he was standing too close since he was so mesmerized by Rick’s handsome face (and his handsome everything).. His brain must have short circuited. Carl had to pinch himself to make sure he was in real life and not some kinky fantasy his mind might have conjured up.

 

But Carl knew that this was his long estranged father of 7 years. Calling him an absentee-father may sound rude and crass so the kid didn’t say anything.

 

“I missed you...” Carl uttered, but this was still an understatement. Rick looked his son in the eye and held his gaze for a moment, then he quickly broke the eye contact and said nothing. His face saddened and distraught. He was a lost for words. Neither planned to be in each other’s life. But here they were, sharing the same classroom, sharing the same space. Carl didn’t know that the “Grimes” on his class schedule meant that his father would be his professor. The first time the student printed out his schedule he thought the familiar last name was just a coincidence. Rick knew Carl was going to UCB but he hoped they’d be in different departments and believed they would hardly see each other on campus so he didn’t bother telling his son where he was working.

 

Carl hasn’t even moved into Rick’s house yet. The student spent his summer in one of his friend’s house. And Beth and Carl carpooled to school that morning. Neither father nor son talked much about themselves during their previous conversations, which remained short and distant.

 

Carl could feel the familial resentment, and undiscovered love for a long lost family member. Estranged--the exact words that ran through both their heads. If Carl was to see his future bright in UC Berkeley, he reckoned to take extra precaution and take special care not to upset the English Literature Department’s head professor. At least that’s what the name plate (plaque) said on his desk. There was an elephant in the room, and someday both had to face it no matter how devastating the subject was. But today introductions and small greetings were in order.  
  
Rick knew what he was and it would take much more for the good old professor to blush. It would take much more than just a peck on the cheeks from his son to unnerve him. Nor would a tight embrace shake him. But it has been awhile since he has felt such warmth and closeness. All the while they made small talk, Rick noticed that there was something off about Carl. Something he couldn't wrap his finger around. Something inexplicable for someone seemingly closer than a stranger. He should know his son, he should at least know who he was, but Rick simply felt somewhat at a loss on how his son was doing.  
  
“Hi Daddy,” Carl greeted his new English professor and estranged father while he kissed him softly on his cheeks. The unexpected endearment pinged in Rick’s ear, and got his full attention. The young teen gave Rick the warmest of smiles. The gesture felt as though they had always done this and Carl had always had such a connection to him. But this was farther from the truth. Both men have hardly spoken to each other for at least seven long years.

 

Their lack of conversation just revealed in magnitude how far and distant they were. They hardly knew anything about each other.

 

“So daddy, you work here? I never imagined you’d be here…” Carl teased and hoped that Rick would loosen up and look at him. The use of the childish endearment did indeed caught the young professor's attention. The truth was, Carl’s insecurity forced him to be overly warm, cordial, polite and accommodating that day.

 

“Professor Grimes…” Rick insisted that’s what the student should call him. The professor emphasized the importance of proper titles while they were in such a place.  
  
Rick was  for certain, taken aback by that seemingly simple, childish but intimate gesture from his oh so beautiful son. Oh how his son has grown, and with such beauty unparalleled. He almost did not recognize him. Noticing only the beautiful young aesthetic face, with an agile, fit body. Lithe….The word “he must get a good hard shag often” crossed Rick’s mind but left the thought alone. He internally berated himself for thinking such inappropriate thoughts at such a time. Rick left his foolish thoughts go, and considered it as an inappropriate flight of fancy.  
  
The both of them knew who each other was and where they stood in the world and their duties as a family member. They knew exactly how to act and how to seem proper. But there was nothing proper or “just” about being separated for so long. Nothing at all, but they knew better than to let their emotions show. They must follow  strict societal constructs, a formal script of play that must be followed by both of them in a University setting. They avoided talks about their personal lives.

Rick  assumed that his desk was a safe haven, so he calmly went  on the other side of it but Carl followed him around his mahogany desk. Like those scenes where you see someone chase another around an obstacle. Carl followed Rick’s every movement as if his father owed it to him. Owed it to his son to meet his every plight and to talk to him.  
  
When Rick could feel the hurt come in the sight of his estranged son, he could feel the true undoing of his being. He had no moral courage to face his son now and felt shame. But he knew sooner or later that he had to stop running away and face head on whatever parental obligation the world had given, as a duty, to him  
  
Carl had walked into the Lecture Hall walkway at the end of the folded desk isles. There was no denying what Carl was about to ask and Rick knew. Even expected.  
  
Rick was about to offer his hand for a handshake to his unassuming son. As Carl rounded the desk and closed on Rick, Rick felt that his son was going to give him a hug. A bold move to give to someone who hadn’t been with each other for a long time. A familial hug unlike any other Rick has ever felt. But oh boy, was Rick wrong that day and his sense of security went out the window, standing behind his desk did nothing. His sense of security of being in a familiar ground or space shattered. His son was giving him a bone crushing and warm hug but he could do nothing about it.  
  
Carl tilted his head up, got on his tippy toes and kissed his father on the cheeks.  
  
“Hi daddy, it’s been a while. Mum never said you’d be here, lecturing in this stuffy university lecture hall. I didn't know you were going to be my professor on the first day." Carl chatted casually, a smile on his face, liking how the word "Daddy" rolled off his tongue, opening up so easily even after all that's happened and passed.

 

Rick wanted to give Carl a hug back and greet him and ask him how he was. When Carl hugged him, Rick simply let his arms hang on his sides, as he froze, unmoving. He felt unable to reciprocate the hug. But the truth was he could not open up to his only son while he felt the proverbial feeling in the back of his head where his perception of a failed father still remained. It lingered in the recesses of his mind,  labeled under his list of inadequacies. He told himself that he had reasons for doing the things he did, but how does one explain them to their own child? And will they ever listen? How could he justify almost a decade of absence in his son’s life? He felt secretly ashamed.

  
  
Then out of nowhere Carl took a step back to give back Rick’s loss of personal space and to give him a once over.

Rick simply stood there, then he looked at his desk chair and took a much needed seat.

  
“Oh hold on a second…” Carl uttered indicating that he had to fetch his mobile phone from his computer bag after hearing it ring. He fumbled through the sleek computer bag, he finds the ringing phone.  
  
Carl brings the phone up to his ears and answered the call. Muttered a low “sorry” to indicate his sorrow for the incredibly rude call interruption.  
  
“Hang on Maggie...calm down. Start from the beginning. Tell me what happened. Tell me what happened from the beginning, you're kinda incoherent right now. Who's in the A&E?” Carl said into the phone, and still on the phone while Rickl muttered with his mouth “No problem” silently to Carl, as he noticed the phone call and made it apparent to Carl that he didn't mind. Carl almost dropped the phone from shock and fear.  
  
“Oh god. Oh my fucking god. No, this...no, this can't be. This better not be one of your sick jokes Maggiel. I swear to God I’ve had it,” Carl said into the phone, as he almost scolded her, fear and anger laced his voice, as he responded to a seemingly frightened, grief stricken, crying and hysterical utterances of Maggie on the other side of the phone line. She was Carl’s friend of many years and it seemed that Carl just received the worst news of his life.  
  
Then as if on queue, Carl’s tears flooded his eyes as if a damn flood gate had opened and unleashed the most heart wrenching tear drops. An overwhelming sadness washed over his body and made his stature looked as if the world fell at his feet. It's been a long time since Rick has seen a teenager cry in front of him, well, anyone for that matter and it somewhat confuses him.  
  
Carl slowly looked up at Rick, blinked his eyes, as he seeked some kind of reassurance ,rather… he silently implored help, and closed his phone and jammed it into his light book bag.  
  
“Father, Oh God...mother passed away... in St. Bart’s Hospital in London just now. I feel I’ve lost my control over my emotions. I’m sorry I can’t,” Carl said greatly devastated to hear the death news from his friend and losing a most beloved mother. Carl did not know how to go on, how to fathom a loss of a parent, nor how to proceed and go about this. Carl's voice became smaller and smaller by the minute, as it become more uncertain, unsure and devoid of strength. All past confidence gone. He falls to the floor and uses his hands set in front of him to hold his body steady and prevent it from falling completely to the ground.  
  
“Maggie..., she said that mother woke up that morning feeling sick. Maggie drove her to A&E.. She was sent to St. Bart's Hospital near Trafalgar Square in London. Then all of a sudden, she suffered a full-body hemorrhage. That doctors couldn't....” Carl said, still in disbelief of what he was saying, small trembles wracked his body, as he gently shook, endless tears came out of his eyes, his gaze stared off at some distance, then stared hopelessly down to the ground. Rick has never seen a person so broken by the world. Carl’s structure and silhouette so defeated and shattered.  
  
The shock, pain and numbness on Rick’s face was unexplainable, seemingly distraught, his thought unclear. He knew what he had to do even when they were in university. He approached Carl, told his son he was going to hug him and proceeded to hug him. Whispering “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry”. Rick was also in disbelief and was shocked at the loss. It was a consoling embrace but Rick wanted to shout and flip over anything he could get his hands on. He felt like breaking something, but he stopped himself and simply embraced Carl closer to him. He wanted to shout, but he simply let his tears fall as he held his tongue and stood still.  
  
“It’s going to be alright son. I’m here... I’m here....I'm here...,” Rick said as Carl accepted the offer of a consolation and the comforting arms of his now very real and very present father. Solidarity-that's all they had in common, and rather that's all they had.  Carl knew he shouldn't do this with a university employee, but at that hour and that time when his world fell into pieces, and that time when Rick could feel his heart and sense of security going out the window, Carl had to face the fallout and the events that would surely follow after his mother’s passing. They had to face the truth. Carl was relying on the kindness of a stranger: Rick (A/N: technically since Rick left Carl so young that he considers Rick kind of a stranger). Carl softly sobbed and Rick comforted his new found son.  
  
The lecture hall, the auditorium, all was quiet except for the sobs of a young man dealing with a great lost. A young man who felt alone in the world, who had inevitably loss his mother, who had no one to turn to but a complete stranger. The deep voice, the reassuring, comforting words Rick whispered and repeatedly reassured, echoed from him in the embrace: “I’m going to protect you...” two men huddled on the floor in a consoling embrace,  and the gentle sound of the school wall clock could be heard, which ever proceeded to tick to the passing of time.

 Do leave me a comment. I appreciate them. I also respond to any and all comments so don't be shy to flame or ridicule or simply drop a Hi or Hello


	2. Won't You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carl takes a five day leave from his studies at the university of Berkeley. Rick takes a week off from work to address the funeral arrangements and attend the funeral service.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited To Conform To AO3 ToS

The funeral arrangements were done hastily for Carl’s mother. The more time they spent fussing and rearranging things the more did the pain come. The kind of insurmountable pain that could take a person’s breath away. The kind of pain that makes one afraid to recount bittersweet memories. The kind of pain that makes one hate nostalgia. The kind of pain that reminded Carl that his mother was gone. Rick thought that he was numb to the pain but one look into Carl’s blue cerulean eyes, he would immediately be taken back to the harsh reality. They carried enough pain as it was, but both couldn’t do anything but hold on. Both felt broken and torn.

The whole process of a life ending was so mechanical. So apathetic and so detached from passion that it almost looked like a scene from a movie thriller or a medical TV show. It was clockwork, the hurried paramedics, the closest ambulance, the flight nurses and the medics came one way and then out the other. There was no consolation at that moment, only fear and panic. Another piece of the puzzle, now unfit for the grand machinery of life, another removal of a small cog from a grander, yet ever still larger clock of time.

Any other description along the lines of the absence of life would have fit. But Carl’s mother’s death did not fit a normal and peaceful Sunday afternoon of his life and what he hoped to expect in those few crucial moments between life and death had faded into innumerable fears. The lawyers had shown up at the Woodland Hills house a couple of days later as they read aloud Lor’s Last Will and Living Trust. Lori’s body had been repatriated from London to Los Angeles after the funeral service.

  
Flash To The Present

The mortuary was contacted the same day after his mother was pronounced dead. Rick bought plane tickets so they could go to London and bury Carl’s mother. They booked economy class seats for a 747 plane to Heathrow airport. They then took a layover in Cardiff then headed to London, where Maggie was waiting for them to come claim Lori’s body from the morgue.

After the funeral service and the eulogies and the desperate attempt to cling to sanity and life; Carl was exhausted to the point of a breakdown and a severe panic attack no matter how tough he presented himself to be to others, or how much courage and dignity he carried himself with. And still Rick never spoke a word nor acknowledged his presence. Rick was sitting next to him, in the Dignity Chapel where his mother was laid for a funeral service and viewing. The man sitting next to him was none other than Rick and they never spoke a word to each other, only furtive glances and fearful stares. Carl scoffed at the word "Dignity Chapel", he told himself and thought bitterly, "there was never any dignity in death".

Rick could feel the immense loss Carl was feeling right then, and understood every minute was a moment of crisis for his young son. Rick wanted to comfort Carl, to caress his cheeks, embrace his body, and tell him that everything was going to be alright and that Rick was there for him, but what transpired between them prevented Rick from doing so. Being separated for almost a decade meant they hardly knew anything about each other. But Carl' father knew that Carl was beyond talking to, was inconsolable, and avoided being fixed, and was stuck in the depths of great grieving and loss. All Rick could do was offer the little comfort he knew and was able to provide as he watch from a distance while his young son silently suffered. Carl wanted to be alone most of the time and his father gave that space to him

  
“Here you are, a complete stranger and you've completely seen through me,” Rick uttered almost to a gentle and lowly whisper, the first word he ever spoke since he left San Francisco. He began to falter, he failed to calm or collect himself, and felt the all familiar sensation of tears that would pool at the back of his eyes, which threatened to run down his cheeks and commence his utter vulnerability. The carefully crafted cold person suit he has meticulously tried to perfect over the years began to show cracks and rust. The world crashed down upon them as they viewed the open casket from where they sat in the front row of the church chapel. They braced themselves for the onslaught of emotions too great for any lone individual to bare. The chapel was formal but sparsely decorated.

A bouquet of elegant white lilies can be seen placed in vases on a pedestal a couple of feet here and there at the corners of the walls of the chapel. The center wall of the chapel was a glass stained mosaic of a roman catholic scene, illuminated by the sun's rays coming into the church. Everyone was quiet, solemn, in mourning. The chapel seating made of deep, dark red mahogany or elm wood. There was an air of solemnity. The chapel seating coupled was archaic, with the holy bible tucked in at the back of each individual seating pouch. There was nothing divine, graceful or adequately beautiful in this death, and all knew the sadness of mortality. The grief from the passing of Carl’s mother could be felt.

  
Rick blocked out the minister's voice as the chapel minister talked about the road that all people must tread, and all the religious jargon, which sounded comforting, but empty nonetheless. The minister in the mortuary seemed a bit uneasy but still conducted a sermon in front of the congregate about the nature of loss and the inevitability of meeting them once again in the afterlife. Almost everyone in the chapel was in disbelief to the disingenuous words. Death was death, and the funeral was a simple formality. There was no consolation that could be found in the funeral service. There was just Lori, dead, and the ones she has left behind.

Carl knew this was not going to cut it. Religion, faith nor a strong belief could not salvage his now broken heart and abandoned sanity. He seemed to feel broken beyond repair and had fallen into an irredeemable sadness.

 

All he wanted was for his mother to tell him that this was all just a bad dream, but Carl knew he was fully awake and there was no escaping reality. He walked away from the open casket of his beloved mother. Even in death, Lori was serene and ever beautiful even after many days have passed.

Carl couldn't face her right now, he couldn’t say his goodbyes. He's simply not ready to let go of the only family member that truly opened up to him, his mother was his whole world. The sun rose and set with her. They were close, and even when they argued, there was clear communication and understanding between them. They had a close and deep connection unlike any other mother and child.

Carl silently stepped out of the Mortuary chapel and he felt the pervasive isolation and proverbial loneliness that surrounded him. The grief hurt his chest, and made his eyes water. He felt his tears threatening to spill out of his eyes.

  
Carl went outside to hopefully regain some semblance of sanity and calm his emotional distress. Rick followed suit, concern made his every move.

  
Rick followed suit, and outside the mortuary chapel, Carl began to utterly break down and cry, he was unable to stop crying and get a grip. He shouted at Rick bitterly, "Why won't you console me! Why can't you even hold my hand. Am I that repulsive and revolting to you! I feel alone I..." Carl said with great fervor, pain and hurt in his voice. The young teen couldn’t finish his sentence, it was all just too much.

The only notion Rick held at the moment was to make things right. To make that situation right again for his young son.

With whatever predicament Rick was in, that there right then was by far the worse. Rick had made a promise to himself to never betray his young son nor leave him again.

Carl balled his eyes out, outside of the mortuary chapel. Tears ran down his face, soaking his reddened cheeks and making his vision blurry. Rick who barely knew his son, and was barely close to this new student, just wrapped his arms around Carl' torso, without another word, and gave support both physically and emotionally. He smiled softly at the boy and gave the warmest embrace.

“Whatever you need. I'm here for you. I can only imagine what you’re going through. I’ve lost my parents too, and this is a time where allowing yourself to feel this hurt and pain from loss is the right move. I want you to know that I'm here for you. I will never leave your side again…” Rick said to calm down the distraught young teen.

Rick could feel his shirt being slightly soaked by his sons tears as Carl hid his face in his father’s broad chest.

"Once I start crying I can't stop..., even if I want to...I just get into this mode where I..." Carl uttered in desperation and his complete vulnerability showed. He was somewhat ashamed of crying in front of a stranger he had just met a couple of days ago. He relayed this to a now slightly appalled and saddened Rick, which made the older brunette regret his previous decisions of removing himself from Carl. Rick was also shocked at how Carl was crying his eyes out like a lost child, unabashed, with great earnesty.

Rick was secretly happy that his son could let out his tears, in front of him, without holding back.

Then out of nowhere, Rick crossed a line he should never ever cross with Carl his entire life. Rick leaned down and pulled Carl closer. He empathized with the great sadness Carl felt as he could feel his own heart break. He swooped in and moved his face closer to his.

An all consuming, engulfing kiss along the lines of _Ah... all is right in the world....this is what it should be. You in my arms, delicate as a flower, meek as wind in the autumn trees, innocent as the first spring bud._ So many thoughts ran through Rick’s mind but he could care less about what was right and what was wrong. He knew that his young son was in so much pain and what better way to alleviate that pain but with an unexpected distraction. Rick didn’t want Carl to be in so much agony and anguish and he knew just what to do.

Rick kissed Carl to stop his young son from crying and trembling in his arms. The kiss, with a swift and sudden effect distracted Carl altogether from his crying. A surge and swirl of confusing emotions lay claim to his heart and mind. This was no ordinary nor innocent kiss. It was a kiss of vindication and assurance. One that said "I love you and I will never let you go". Rick simply whispered comfortingly in his son’s ear, "I’ve not shown tears to the world since I was born. And I’ll be damned if I showed my tears to a complete stranger, and a young brat no less." Rick's tough facade was in the midst of cracking. What he really meant to say was: “I can’t help but cry seeing you cry”. And when Carl kissed him back, when he could feel his young son’s lips pushing back, with the soft and supple lips upon his, something like "love" warmed their hearts. The small gesture distracted the both of them from the harsh reality they then lived in.

His son tasted of cherry chapstick.

With a trembling Carl in his arms, and a shattered heart, Rick kissed Carl deeper, kissed him slower with a tumultuous fervor as if Rick was never letting go. He softly bit Carl’s lower lip and found them to be so supple and smooth. He continued to nip and playfully chase and tease the teen's lips. It was intoxicating.

And Carl responded as if he needed this, as if he needed it like he'd need air for breathing. A kind of inexplicable comfort completely knew and unknown to him. The kind of comfort he had never known he needed in his life. At first he kept the kiss chaste, only nipping and worrying the lips of his father, almost shy and coy at every movement. His movements were unsure, as if they asked with unspoken and silent words if it's alright for him to lean in and seek more trust in a man he had only known for a couple of days. He was unsure as how to kiss anyone. Rick wondered if Carl had kissed anyone like that, but judging from how inexperienced his son was, he hoped that this was not Carl’s first kiss.

Carl stopped crying and hyperventilating after the kiss. Rick successfully stopped Carl from crying, as he comforted him from the immense breaking of his heart. The stream of tears had stopped and there was a sense of confusion and hesitance in Carl’s face.

. Rick knew Carl' world was breaking as much as his did. Rick remembered when he had lost his own parents and how painful it was for someone so young to be facing such mortality.

  
Carl was shocked, bewildered, confused, taken aback and lost, but he allowed Rick to continue kissing him. The kiss was a physical reassurance of someone, physically someone by his side at that dire and critical moment. "You can cry if you want...", Carl uttered, as he offered between the deep kisses, but was still faltering. Then as if the all too cold, lonely and powerful shield Rick had meticulously perfected and cultivated, and built up over the years slowly started to deteriorate- as it disintegrated at an alarming rate, all due to a few words that his young son uttered. Rick had built up a wall around his heart to not let anyone in, but now they were crumbling.

Rick hugged Carl and Rick’s head was stationed on Carl shoulders. Tears ran down Carl's shoulders and back and Rick silently hugged Carl, tears ran down Carl’ Hugo boss black pinstripe suit. His young son now shielded Rick from the rest of the world while he silently cried on Carl' shoulder. He hugged him in an attempt to regain normalcy, and comfort. Rick simply kept hugging his young son partly to hide his tears, and partly to apologize without speaking.

The sunset had begun and the lights of the afternoon began to fade. “Just a little more” Rick stated, as both were still in the all consuming embrace, tears fell down his face and onto Carl’ jacket's back. They were standing there in an embrace as if they were the only two people in the world. They were in their own little space, as both felt time stop and both felt reassured with their bodies that they were there for each other.

"I'd be damned if I let anyone else see me in this wretched state" Rick stated, too proud to even let Carl see him cry, as he continued to hug the young teen so as not to show Carl his face. He started to feel exposed as he was unwilling to show Carl his vulnerable, uncomposed, uncool and uncollected side, that was full of sorrow and regret. His voice saddened, deep and low, as he whispered apologies to Carl.

The words, "sorry...just a little longer..." fell from Rick's lips as he continued to embrace his now calm but despondent son. Many thoughts crossed his mind, but one question threatened his sanity: _What kind of man makes out with his son at his own wife's funeral?_ Rick was emotionally wrecked and undone, both inside and out. 

 

(Thank You For Reading, Please Leave Me A comment, I Don't Bite)


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